Before I relate today's entertainment, a quick statement in case anyone should get the wrong impression: the staff I came into contact with were uniformly excellent, the comedy was purely situational.
I was instructed to arrive at 07:30. Given that it is a 15 minute drive to the station, an hour's train ride and a 15 minute walk at the other end, this meant getting up at an hour I know exists but had rarely seen.
07:30 prompt, I arrive at the reception area along with two other hapless individuals. No reception as it is too early, but a nurse appeared about 10 minutes later, called out our names and instructed us to follow her. A small crocodile fell into step and we were led to the day surgery unit preparation / recovery room. Each of us was allocated a bed (mine was number 8) and invited to sit. I looked at the chair next to the bed and decided that I would sit on the bed as it might have less wildlife living in it. I kid you not, I might own dogs and a horse, with hands on experience of everything they imply, but the chair was not an object that even I would consider sitting on. I have tried my hardest to upload a picture here, but to no avail. It can be seen on my Twitter page: @phil_woods
The next three hours were pretty uneventful. I had my blood pressure taken, was asked the same questions several times, was tagged, explained that I would not require sedation and was told that they had seen the emails. Read the newspaper cover to cover at least twice.
Then.....action! Could I please change into the two gowns provided? This was more interesting than it sounds as one of them was obviously for what is known as a bariatric patient. For those not conversant with NHS code, bariatric means people with a significant waist control problem (I think it is politically incorrect for me to refer to "fat", "obese" etc, so I will not.......... Oops!). Given that I do not have a waist issue, fitting all of the capacious gown around my svelte form was a challenge!
Into the "Procedure room" and asked if they had some entonox available as requested. "Oh dear, we got the message, but don't think we can find any". Call me bonkers (believe it or not, people do), but a hospital the size of UCLH with no entonox?
Full marks to the anaesthetic nurse though, she beetled off and came back with a full scale anaesthetic apparatus. No demand valve, but I was quite happy to use a mask as and when required. Not sure whether it was entonox or something a bit stronger, but it was good :)
The fun started when the biospy had finished. I was invited to lie on a trolley to be wheeled back to "recovery". Off we went down the corridor and into the recovery room.............well, not quite. Got there to find that they had no room. Much fussing and checking other places before I was wheeled back to the procedure room. Where I sat.......and sat.......and sat.
After about 10 minutes, during which I chatted with the nurses about blog posts, contacts in the NHS, Forest Hill, Grenada etc, patience wore a bit thin. I asked them to send someone to get my clothes so I could get changed and go. I was greeted with expressions of utter horror! "They will not discharge you until you have a) passed water and b) been clerked out, so you cannot leave". I reminded them of the Mental Capacity Act which says that people's decisions must be respected no matter whether they are viewed as "good", unless they can be demonstrated to lack (mental) capacity. For good measure I did offer that the Mental Health Act would allow them to detain me against my will..............
This very quickly produced the Sister in charge, who tried to engage me in conversation, and the doctor. Small procedure room, 4 nurses, one doctor and me. Eventually, enter a fifth nurse, this time with my clothes. Got dressed (all but one of the nurses left the room whilst I did it). I was asked to sign a disclaimer as I had not followed the rules and allowed out at last. More comedy ahead though.............I think that some of the names I dropped had a bit of an effect.
I was met outside the door by the doctor who asked me what they could do to improve things. He obviously expected me to say "more beds" and was a bit surprised when I said that they could improve their throughput by offering a local anaesthetic as the default with sedation available for those who want it. If I had not been determined, they would have sedated me and I would have had to stay there for hours before I could physically leave.
Next, I had to run the gauntlet of apologetic nurses. I am not sure how many times they apologised, but it was a lot. I tried to tell them that they had been great, but they insisted on apologising some more. A bit sad that a broken system forces professional staff to abase themselves for fear of a complaint. I will end as I began: the staff were great!
Apparently, I will be invited back to an outpatient consultation in about 3 weeks. Not exactly fast and furious, but after 7 months I have stopped caring.
Song is a bit of a problem...........this one is short, but well worth listening to
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzbhEK3TuIc
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